


Corallorhiza

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't realize how much she actually missed this, missed Scott’s lithe fingers digging into her wrists, hot breath skirting across her lips. Stiles missed being Scott’s, and no amount of one night stands could really make her forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Completely AU, no werewolves, no supernatural things, just two girls and whatever's between them.

She didn't exactly know why she was here, this wasn't really her crowd. Or her scene. Scott glanced around the room filled to the brim with people, and terrible, just awful music. She sipped from her red cup, still wondering why she even came here.

It was too hazy inside, too stagnant with fresh smoke blocking her lungs at every turn. She trekked outside, the cool air tart against her skin, and dropped her cup. She probably shouldn't have sipped it. But whatever, it was spilling amber liquid out on the grey concrete step and she could finally breathe.

It didn't take long for her to get bored. She got cold first, regretting leaving her jacket inside, her keys were in there and everything. She cursed under her breath and dove back into the hazy mess, searching the pleather couches for it.

It was warm, warmer than it should be, which means someone sat on it for a good while before realizing they were sitting on her stupid fake-worn jacket. She slid it on her slender shoulders, feeling the itchy stretch of the material against her skin. The dress scratched her soft skin around her thighs and sides, it fit too tight and too snug and she could barely breathe. But she chalked most of that up to the smoke clouding her lungs and her vision.

She was gone, she didn't belong here, there was nothing here for her and whatever she had hoped was here obviously wasn't. She didn't want to admit the little flicker of disapointment that fluttered when she didn't see Stiles. At All. 

The cold air bled though her jacket, making the walk home damn near unbearable, even in the permanent warmth of L.A. She hated the clack of her heels as she stammered along the sidewalk, but she wasn't going to get home any other way.

 

* * *

 

Stiles was late. Not that she could really be late to be anywhere, especially when Alex was involved, but tonight she was late. She didn't run, though, she merely took a shortcut through an alley she knew all too well, and hoped she could still find her way in the dark.

She did, though, find the elbow of a stranger, and as much as she wanted to stop and apologize, she was still in a hurry. She glanced back, mouthing a faint 'sorry' and spun around to continue on her way, only she didn't. She stopped. She stopped, turned around and stared, hoping the girl would do the same.

Which she did. Stiles stared at her, not gaping, not dumbfounded or anything like that. She just stared until one of them decided it was a little too awkward to. “Stiles?”

It was her. Stiles stumbled backwards, too awestruck to contain herself. She didn't pass out from shock, though she probably could've if she really thought about it. She grinned, resettling her jacket on her arm as she made her way back to Scott.

“Holy fucking jesus, Scott?” Scott smiled, feeling her cheeks stretch in protest.

“Yeah. It's been a while.” Understatement. Stiles could honestly remember the last time she saw Scott, it had to have been at least last year. She resisted the urge to swathe her with chicken bone arms, but only just barely. “How are you?”

Stiles couldn't really find an answer for that. She thought for a second before giving the obligatory “I'm fine, how're you?”.

Even now, Scott didn't buy her bullshit. “That's good.” But it wasn't her place anymore. She took Stiles's fake smile and stuffed it away, taking all of her forced small talk in stride. It was terrible, not being able to help when she was obviously _wasn't_. But. Whatever.

There was a point, a breaking point, where Scott could only contain herself for so long before _she_ was bound to come back. Stiles was expecting it, though, the snap and change, the way Scott threw her fake smile away in place of tightly formed lips stretched across the bottom of her face.

“Stiles.” Stiles knew what that meant. She actually did grin this time, semi-embarassed that Scott of all people could still catch her in a lie. She didn't try to tug the wool over her eyes anymore.

“Fine. I'm really, really late, is that better?” Stiles toed her heels into the pavement,wondering why she was wearing heels and if Scott would continue this conversation now. “How're you?”

Scott stepped closer once, close enough to smell the alcohol already tainting Stiles, feel the harsh breaths she breathed out against her because she was just a tad bit too close. “...Stiles?” Fuck this diplomacy, there was something so obviously wrong and she couldn't ignore the voice in her mind urging her fingers to smooth Stiles's cheeks.

But she stopped there. She didn't lean in for a kiss, like Stiles had expected. No, she was going to have to work for that. But. Lucidity usually hit her a couple hours later, but right now all she could think about was why was she still here? Didn't she know she was supposed to be hating Stiles's pokey body right about now?

She was. And she did. But right now, Scott could barely concetrate on the artic wind blowing through her jacket, curling up between her limbs. And the small, minute flicker in Stiles's eyes that totally could've just been the streetlamps.

“What's wrong?” Scott asked again, this time her words fighting Stiles's lungs for air as they slid down her windpipe. She was too close, too close for conversation at least, and Stiles wondered why she hadn't shoved her off. Or vice versa.

 

* * *

  

She got her answer back at her house, which was only a couple of blocks away, mind you, but still a strange place to have Scott in again. It was even weirder to have the butterflies thumping around her stomach, upsetting the beat of her heart. She stared as Scott took it all in, the remnants of parties passed, the clothes bottles and empty wrappers littering Stiles's living room.

Scott tried not to think too much about it. She reached for Stiles's fingers, lacing hers in between as she tugged them closer to her. It wasn't like either of them hadn't been in this position numerous times since the split, in fact, Stiles's lost track of the girls she'd tugged upstairs. Scott almost has. She still counts on her toes though.

But everything was right where she'd left it, right where Scott remembered, save for a couch or an empty guitar stand. She kept her eyes straight, though, and focused on the walk up to Stiles's room upstairs.

“Confident, are we?” Stiles tugged back, getting Scott to slow down. “It's like you know where you're going...” She tugged Scott all the way back, ducking into a hallway where she usually took her guests.

“But...” Scott stopped. Stiles pulled Scott flat against her, tucking her up against the wall.

“No. No buts.” Stiles didn't exactly know what this was, but she knew she didn't want to take Scott upstairs. No way in hell this was an upstairs kind of deal. Stiles didn't move first, she rarely ever did. She waited for Scott to.

Scott. She smoothed her fingers over Stiles's skimpy number, it was something of a comforting gesture she'd come to realize. She didn't want to just be another one, for some reason she couldn't just erase Stiles from her mind. “How're we gonna do this, Stiles?”

Stiles shrugged, feeling something inside of her switch. Fuck making the first move, she'd do anything to heard that voice again. She leant up on her now bare toes to press a kiss to Scott, getting distracted along the way.

Stiles was more than desperate, after the first taste she wanted to suck Scott through her lips, drink in her scent, down in like ice water. She whined as Scott pulled back only to ruck the scratchy fabric of Stiles’s dress up, sliding her fingers along the thinning expanse of Stiles’s skin.

None of the usual girls felt like this, so willing and eager, but not so much so to make her rethink bringing them home. Scott had picked the worst girls to take, all of them emulating Stiles in some way, though none of them really came close.

“Scott?” She wanted to move this out of the hallway. Stiles pulled back enough to stare up into Scott’s clouded eyes. Her shoulder strap fell, Scott tugged the right side down to match, before deciding to move this to the bedroom.

She reached behind her for the do feeling the cool knob in her hand. She couldn’t even blink, Stiles was on her back faster than her eyelids could work. In a matter of seconds, her skintight number was off. Scott was next to follow.

She was just how Stiles remembered. She sauntered over to the heap of limbs, pushing Stiles back parallel to the sheets, crawling along her warm body. She fell back into it with ease, feeling her body melt into the sheets as Scott worked to get her bra off. It took a bit of effort, but Scott finally unhooked the menace, tossing it aside as she loomed over Stiles, falling back into it just as easily.

She didn’t realize how much she actually missed _this_ , missed Scott’s lithe fingers digging into her wrists, hot breath skirting across her lips. Stiles missed being Scott’s, and no amount of one night stands could really make her forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not a happy ending. She doesn't deserve a happy ending. She doesn't think she ever will.

The covers were heavy, the sheets were stiff and starchy but she didn't pay much attention to that. Here she was, here were the lips, the eyes face hair skin she hadn't seen, hadn't felt in so long. Here was the person she missed like their breath mingling between wet lips. Scott missed the rush to meet skin, she'd never felt the urge to undress Stiles like she did now. She missed her laugh, the crinkle in her cheeks, the way her eyes felt warm, hot, sweltering in the cool light of her bedside lamp. She wanted, to touch, to taste, but it wasn't like she thirsted for it. She wanted to look, see, but not like this.

She wasn't complaining. She couldn't complain. She was on a tight schedule.

Her hair was longer, her skin was smoother, her lips were redder under her teeth. Everything about Stiles was better with distance, always has been.

They didn't talk, not during, not after, Scott left again and this time she left quietly. It was barely morning, the chill of the night still hung around as she made her way back to her apartment. She didn't know what she wanted from Stiles, but last night definitely wasn't it. She wanted more, but she couldn't have it.

It left her unsettled.

She didn't leave a note or her number and she's pretty sure it was on purpose. Stiles probably wouldn't have called her anyway, wouldn't have carried this over. That's all she wanted, that's all Scott thought Stiles wanted, knew she wanted. That's what last night was.

The last night. Her keys were cold, her fingers were cold, but her cheeks were hot as she turned the lock and opened her door into the dim apartment. No trace of freckles and smoke, her shoes were lined up at the door and her living room was as she left it. The order was maddening.

But she left it alone.

* * *

 

She knew she'd wake up alone, Stiles got used to the feeling of waking up alone. Even after falling asleep with a warm body, either she or it would be gone in the morning. She rolled over her unmade bed, burying her face in the pillows. 

They were usually on the floor by now. Come to think of it, her sheets would've been halfway across the room if it were any other morning. But she didn't dwell on that too long. It didn't mean much.

She probably wouldn't see her again, and that wasn't okay, but what could she do?

Pull the covers over her head. Sleep til noon. Carry on like she did for 478 days before Scott showed up again.

Wallow in self pity. Drink. Go find a  quick fuck. Anything she could think of that didn't directly involved Scott.

It's not a happy ending. She doesn't deserve a happy ending. She doesn't think she ever will. Stiles pulled herself together after wasting most of the day, and she went on with her life. 

It was a one time thing, she wasn't sure if she ever really had the chance to make it more, but clearly now was too late. Scott was gone again and she wasn't coming back.


End file.
